Tin Cans and pylons


Can you here me over the air waves

Can you hear me breath

Can you feel the vibrations

of the cotton as I weave

If I were a spider

I would catch you in my lair

surround you in my sticky twine

and play truth, promise, kiss or dare


Take me there



Breath the air so crisp and fresh

feel it tingle as it fills your lungs

let the warmth of the day

spread through you

and smile at the beauty of our countryside